


The Sweet Fruits of Labor

by Azzandra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (this isn't a euphemism they literally go to a candy store), Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Nursing Home Escape, Old Married Couple, Post-Canon, Raiding the Candy Store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: Dedue and Dimitri break out of the nursing home for a very important errand.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	The Sweet Fruits of Labor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archaeopteryx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaeopteryx/gifts).



> We were talking on rarepair server about how the two foxes comics fit dimidue so well, and someone suggested I write a fic based on one particular page, so this story is inspired by [this one right here](https://foxes-in-love.tumblr.com/post/190096606130).
> 
> (Also, maybe this is in the same continuity as 'The Beasts of Modernity'? If you enjoy reading about the characters growing old, you may also enjoy that fic about elderly Ferdinand.)

Nurse Lenore was acquainted with the routines of St. Indech's Home for the Elderly so well that she could set her watch by the sound of the passing staff making their rounds, so she knew right away, when she heard the distressed patter of the young orderly's feet, that something had gone amiss.

The kid--barely eighteen but already built like an ox--looked so distressed that when Lenore looked up from her crosswords puzzle, he had unshed tears in his eyes.

"Nurse, I think I lost a patient," he said, voice shaky.

She put down her pencil and swiveled in her chair.

"Calm down, Arnoldt. Most of them can't get that far on their own. Who did you lose?" she asked, keeping her voice even.

"I-- I was taking Molinaro on his morning walk," he explained, wringing his hands. 

"Oh, I see," Lenore nodded, and turned back to the nurses' station. She picked up the phone receiver from its cradle and changed the setting on the switchboard so the line opened to the appropriate floor. The line crackled as it connected. "Hello, Madeleine? Is Blaiddyd at his white magic therapy session right now? ...Can you check?"

Arnoldt gave her a peculiar look.

"But what about--" he started.

"Shh." On the line, Madeleine explained that Blaiddyd was not, in fact, with the healer, who was currently in the process of losing his gourd over the broken appointment. "Thanks, doll. I see what's happening here. Molinaro's missing too. ...Uh-huh. Yep. Both of them. ...Yeah, again. Thanks for your help."

Lenore hung up and turned back to Arnoldt, who looked less distressed now and more confused.

"Well," Lenore said, "you were going to learn eventually."

* * *

The sound of the bell above the door was not unexpected, though it was somewhat rarer at a time of day when the children were in school. Still, Beatrice rose from behind the counter, where she was just about done sorting through jars.

"Hel-lo, welcome to Bea's Goodies," she sing-songed in her usual voice, but she stopped the rest of her usual pitch as she realized the customers who had just stepped through the door weren't her usual. 

She did think it was a bit early for school to let out, since the children didn't start swarming her shop with their pocket-money held high until half past twelve, and it wasn't like adult customers were all that rare for a candy shop. But she certainly wasn't expecting customers _quite so old_.

The two elderly men advanced slowly into the store, one of them in a wheelchair being pushed by the other, and a curious trick of perspective happened where Beatrice did not realize how large they both were until they had stopped before her counter and nodded politely at her.

"Good morning," the man pushing the wheelchair said, giving a gap-toothed smile. 

He was bent over with age, an effect only enhanced by the fluffy shawl over his shoulders, but he still managed to tower over Beatrice, who had always thought herself of a perfectly respectable height. It was then she noticed he had an eyepatch over one eye, partially hidden behind a curtain of fine white hair. 

"This is a fine establishment you have here," the one-eyed geriatric behemoth remarked, and Beatrice thanked him reflexively, as she was still in a daze. 

The man in the wheelchair, who had quite the forbidding appearance, hummed in agreement as he looked through the glass of the display case. He had a blanket in a colorful teal and orange pattern spread over his lap, and his hands shook with age, but he looked otherwise quite robust.

"You have a very good variety," he said, in a voice that was unexpectedly deep and pleasant. His face a mess of deep wrinkles and smooth scars, but Beatrice smiled brightly in response.

"Thank you," she said. "Are you looking for something in particular, or just browsing?"

"Our great-grandchildren are coming to visit," the man in the wheelchair explained.

And that was how Beatrice learned, in short order, the abridged configuration of their family, their visiting schedule, the fact that the two were residents of the retirement home just outside of town. 

Incidentally, she also picked up on their names, which itched at her memory like they were something she was meant to recall from somewhere--not so much 'Dimitri', which every man over seventy in Faerghus seemed to be named anyway, but Dedue sounded distinctive, like she'd heard it in a particular context before.

Maybe she was imagining it. The name sounded Duscur, maybe that was where she'd heard it before.

At any rate, she did not mind their questions about her stocks, or trying to help find something for every one of their family members' tastes. She got the sense they were not regular consumers of sweets, but there was still something intensely charming about the way they asked about her stock with utmost seriousness, like they were plotting out a war campaign, and not merely acquiring sweets to spoil their great-grandchildren.

When she broke open a chocolate ball to reveal the creamy red liquor inside, and the smell of brandy filled the air, Dimitri leaned over to look at it curiously.

"Is it hard getting the liquid in there?" he asked, puzzling over the candy.

"Not really, they're just made in a particular way," Beatrice said. "Would you like a taste? The alcohol content is minimal. About as much as a few drops in every one."

"You are too kind, but it would be wasted on me," Dimitri smiled apologetically. "I haven't been able to taste anything in quite some time."

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, that's insensitive of me--"

"No, no, it is quite alright--"

"Dimitri enjoys certain textures," Dedue interrupted, thankfully before they could really get going. Beatrice flinched a bit, because the man had such a quiet presence despite his size, that she nearly forgot he was there.

"Ah, that I do," Dimitri agreed. "I like... the chewy stuff." And he looked to Dedue, who nodded in confirmation.

"I have some red licorice, that's pretty chewy," Beatrice offered, somewhat dubious considering Dimitri already seemed to be missing a couple of teeth. At his age, maybe it was a sign of the hard life that came before, but she didn't want to be the reason an old man lost the last of his teeth. She scanned the shelves for something softer than licorice. "Or, I have chewing gum. Have you ever tried?"

"I have been told it is a vulgar habit, to chew gum," Dimitri said.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't be doing it at the opera," Beatrice said, taking the lid off the chewing gum jar and fishing out a piece, "but what can it hurt if nobody knows?"

She handed him the piece of gum, wrapped in the crinkly paper with the 'Bea's Goodies' logo.

"Ah, it has the little bee on it," Dimitri remarked, pointing to the small image of a bee stamped on the other side, the same as the one on the hanging sign outside. Dimitri seemed genuinely charmed by this detail in a way that made Beatrice's chest swell with pride. Customers always remarked on the little bees she often had stamped on packages.

"There's also a riddle on the paper inside," Beatrice shared in a stage whisper.

"How clever!" Dimitri said, and perhaps he truly thought so. It was a fairly new conceit, unlikely to have existed during Dimitri's childhood, which Beatrice put about somewhere in the previous century. But a lot of shops were doing little gimmicks like that these days, as the costs of paper and printing went down, and competition grew fierce.

She returned her attention to Dedue, who was debating the merits of pulled creams versus caramel, and then they moved on to discussing the Almyran lokum Beatrice was also selling, which wasn't brought all the way from Almyra, but it _was_ being made by an elderly little Almyran lady that Beatrice had on payroll.

They had mostly settled on what they wished to buy, and Beatrice was only checking if they wanted anything else before she packed it all up.

It wasn't until she popped the lid off a jar of peppermint that Dimitri came to her notice again.

"There is a medicinal smell in here," he remarked distantly.

She looked up, surprised that he would pick up on that when he couldn't even properly taste anymore, but when she saw the look on his face, she placed the lid back on the peppermint candies. Something about the smell of them tended to remind people of an infirmary, for some reason. She'd never gotten this reaction before.

"Yes, this was an apothecary before," she said.

His gaze seemed to come from a thousand miles away as he affixed her with his one eye.

"...Was it?" he asked.

"Yeah, when my pops owned the place," Beatrice continued, pushing the peppermint jar to the far end of the counter. "But he realized his cures were tastier that they were effective, so he started focusing more on that over the years. We still sell a few medicinal items, for sore throat or coughs, and we have some ginger candy that everyone who's ever taken it for morning sickness swears by. But when I took over, we just committed to sweets completely. I'm not much of an apothecary anyway, to be honest."

"That is a charming story," Dimitri said, more like himself. Beatrice was relieved that her rambling monologue seemed to bore him out of whatever strange mood that had been.

"Your father must be proud of you," Dedue said.

"Ah, well," Beatrice felt her cheeks redden. "He'd be anyway, he's soft on me like that." She hastily began packing up the items they had agreed to purchase. "Do you want these ones as well?"

She pointed to the liquor chocolates, and Dimitri turned his head to peer at them with his good eye.

"Which ones are those?" he asked.

"The liquor chocolates," she said.

Dimitri blinked rapidly, surprise passing over his face.

"The chocolates have liquor?" he asked.

Beatrice felt like she missed a step somewhere, but the chocolate ball she had broken open was still sitting on a tray, so she picked up half of it to show him.

"See? There's brandy inside."

Dimitri delicately picked up the chocolate.

"How fascinating," he said, then leaned down to show it to Dedue. "They put actual alcohol inside. I was not aware they could do that."

"Apparently they are made in a particular way," Dedue replied, unperturbed, and patted Dimitri's arm. "Do you want us to get some?"

"Ah, we ought to get something for Mina and the children's visit," Dimitri said.

"All set," Beatrice said, plopping onto the counter a paper bag overstuffed with packages of candy. 

"Oh." Dimitri scratched his cheek and squinted, embarrassed. "Yes. Yes, that was why we were here..."

"How much is that?" Dedue asked, and produced, instead of a wallet, an actual old-fashioned coin purse, with beaded patterns. The last time Beatrice had seen one like it, it was the one she'd inherited from her grandparents. Who used coin purses anymore? Paper money was taking over.

When she told them the price, however, instead of upending it and sending gold all over the counter, like Beatrice halfway feared might happen, Dedue took out a small checkbook.

"I require my glasses," he said, and Dimitri, in response, reached in his chest pocket and took out a set of old-fashioned spectacles with round lenses.

"He always puts them on the bedside table and forgets about them," Dimitri said, and leaned down to kiss the top of Dedue's head.

"I am very lucky to have a husband who always remembers them for me," Dedue agreed placidly, and perched the glasses on his nose as he began filling out a check.

The bell over the door rang again, and Beatrice turned with her best customer greeting smile.

"Hel-lo, welcome to Bea's Goodies!" she greeted, before cutting off as she took in the appearance of the woman in the doorway. She was wearing a nurse's uniform.

That was when Beatrice learned an additional fact about her customers, namely that they had not gotten anyone's permission before nipping out to raid a candy shop. The nurse looked livid, but Beatrice had to smother a laugh anyway; usually it was cross parents coming to track down their children.

Dimitri and Dedue looked completely unrepentant, as well, taking their sweet time paying for their purchases and saying their farewells. Dedue handed her the check, and it was not until they were out the door that Beatrice inspected the writing on it.

The name Dedue Molinaro Blaiddyd sprang up at her then, and she was struck very suddenly by the realization of where she'd heard it before.


End file.
